This week marks the anniversary of mine and Bruce’s last week together… And to make it even more real, the dates line up to the day of the week exactly as they did that same week six years ago. When I woke up this morning, I found myself trying to remember every moment of that week. It was such precious time, and we had no idea what lay just a few short days away.
The trouble is the distance between that week and this one… and my own memory…
When Bruce died, and this journey began, I was terrified. There were so much hurt and so many unknowns. How in the world was I supposed to learn to navigate this path on my own?… Well, time has passed, and thankfully, with each passing day, I learn a little bit more.
But there is one fear, I can’t seem to shake. In fact, as time goes on, it seems to be my biggest fear… It is the fear of forgetting.
From the moment he died, I swore that as long as I had breath in my lungs, his memory would stay alive. I refused to forget him, or to let the world forget he had been here, too. Perhaps that is a part of my reasoning for writing this blog… I know it is why I keep a journal.
It is the reason we write down our Christmas memories with Bruce and slip them into his stocking, (which I still hang next my own). And why his pictures still grace the shelves throughout our home. It is why I still wear his jacket on chilly nights and smile whenever I see his favorite beer on a menu or a store shelf.
These last few months, I have even begun to recognize some of my own healing as I find myself looking at pictures and (rather than crying), I can beam with delight at the memories involved. These things (and many more) are what I choose to do to keep Bruce’s memory and legacy alive… It is my way of expressing the love I still feel for him.
But…
There have also been some changes over the last few months which is fueling my biggest fear… The fear of forgetting… And the cancer treatments of this past year don’t help this situation at all. (Allow me to confirm that “chemo-brain” is a very real and very frustrating thing.)
So how does that play out?
Well, I struggle to remember what his voice sounded like. I have two videos of Bruce – one is silent and in the other, he only says one word, … “almost” and he laughs. I find myself watching it over and over just to hear that one word… just to hear the joy in his laughter and see the smile on his face.
I struggle to remember what his arms felt like and how it felt to lay in them… To remember the comfort and security I always found there. While I have gotten stronger and more self-reliant this year, deep down I miss the strength I found in those arms, and I am frustrated as I struggle to recall how that felt.
I also struggle to remember what it felt like to hold his hand… His hands were so much bigger than my own. I can remember we rarely interlaced our fingers because it would hurt my hands. Instead, he would hold my hands like a child’s and ever so gently rub the back of my hand with his thumb.
I want to remember the exact color of his eyes and the way they wrinkled when he smiled… Or to remember the things that made him smile… I want to remember how his eyes twinkled when he was up to no good and how it sounded when he said, “I love you.”
I want to remember all of it… But between the cancer treatments and growing older, that seems to be getting harder and harder. I am terrified I am forgetting… And that makes me even more sad.
Normally in the past, I would spend a lot of time this week at “our” beach where his ashes were spread off shore. I would sit there for hours… remembering… writing… and just talking to him. But this year, due to this government shut-down, that is not an option. Our beach is closed, and I can’t even get close to that space which is so precious to me.
I’m not sure how I will spend this week, or how to overcome this fear… All I know is this is my biggest fear, and it seems to be coming true…
But one thing I will always remember – I love him… And I will always love him…
“’I miss him every single day,’ I said… ‘It’s gotten to the point where I can’t hear his voice anymore and I’m so afraid I won’t remember what he sounded like when he’d say, ‘I love you.’ And I don’t ever want to forget.’” ~ Donna VanLiere, The Christmas Hope
What about you? What is your biggest fear? Do you ever struggle with forgetting? Am I alone on this one? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how you deal with your fears? Or what you do to remember? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*
Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.
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